The Golden Regent
by TudorPrincess149
Summary: Powerless, Princess Elizabeth was thrown in different directions by rivalling factions during the turbulent reigns of Edward VI and Mary I. With a Catholic infant on the Throne, she found herself thrusted into the middle of politics. Will she be unable to protect the child-ruler? Or will she be the golden regent, holding the keys to a better England?
1. Chapter 1

**Characters:**

**-**Mary I of England (1516-1556)

-Queen Elizabeth 'Lisbet' (1556-)

-Princess Elizabeth Tudor (1533-)

-Cardinal Reginald Pole (1500-)

-Lady Jane Grey (1536-)

-Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby (1509-)

-William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester (1483-)

-Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon (1527-)

* * *

**January, 1556**

Cold wind slapped against the closed windows, covered with dark curtains, attempting to invade the royal palace. The clouds rumbled forebodingly.

It was the first day of the new year, but there were no celebrations.

Inside Richmond Palace, the thirty eight year old Queen Mary I of England laid on her bed, dosed with fever and pain.

She had spent months in confinement after her unpopular marriage with Philip II of Spain who remained in Spain, as his aging wife was in danger of childbirth fever after giving birth disappointingly to a tiny infant. A priest was hurriedly called for in case of both mother and child's deaths. English citizens crowded outside the iron gates, shifting and murmuring uneasily to one another. Did the Queen have a son? A daughter?

Mary was by no means liked, but a child...

Courtiers roamed through the halls like ghosts, whispering to each other.

Was it time to make overtures to the queen-in-waiting, the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, daughter of the late Henry VIII of England and his second wife, Anne Boleyn? Would their hated queen recover from the contagious murderer of childbed disease?

The twenty one year old, unmarried Lady Elizabeth, sat patiently beside her half-sister, aware of her precarious position. She took the pitiful baby from the sweaty, apprehensive midwife and smiled sympathetically at the poor child.

It was a girl.

Her own place is still insecure.

Without a son, Mary will never view her as a sister as she did before.

After a fitful sleep, Mary opened her eyes.

"Where is he?" she murmured, adjusting her deep blue eyes to the light brought in by the flickering candles lit around her confinement chambers. "Where is my son? How long have I been asleep for? Does Philip know he has a son yet?"

"You have a dear daughter," said Elizabeth, showing her the infant. "We thought to wait for you to wake before informing the King of Spain of the successful birth."

Mary closed her eyes, obviously disheartened.

"She is lovely," tried Elizabeth, glancing at her weak blue eyed half-niece with a few short strands of auburnish-blonde hair. "Come Mary. At least look at your darling daughter. You _will _have a son. You should not be upset that you have a daughter..."

"No point hiding the truth," said Mary bitterly, as the little princess began wailing pathetically like the bleating of a sick lamb. "I am old. I know what the people say about me, and I will never have another child. God sees it fit to punish me with a useless daughter due to me leniency with heretics. I should have eradicated all of them and He would reward me with a son."

"Perhaps if you are more merciful-"

"And allow heretics to prosper? England is tainted with enough of them."

"Sleep, Your Majesty. You must recover from the ordeal."

"For what? To watch more Protestants grow each day and for my child to die in an hour? If it was not for God's will for me to cleanse England of Protestant evil, I would be pleased to die. In fact, I am know certain I will die without completing my mission."

"Why is that, Your Majesty?"

"I can feel myself burn. I saw Queen Jane die giving birth to our departed brother. I watched my friends die in childbirth. I am next."

She was calmer by now, and looked at her daughter again, this time with fondness.

"She will grow," she decided, to Elizabeth's relief. "Henry V of England was said to have been born a weak child, and he became the warrior king in his adulthood. My daughter will grow and thrive under the best care, and will succeed in the mission I failed in. I suppose it is up to her to wipe out all the heretics from England. Elizabeth, fetch a piece of parchment and a quill. Quickly. I do not think I have the strength to write, and you must do so in my stead, but I must say what the councillors have warned me against throughout my short reign, and I trust you out of all the courtiers to write it. I believe you will write exactly what I say. Yes?"

Elizabeth nodded, a quill steadily in hand.

"I, Queen Mary of England and Ireland, the First of my name," dictated Mary, her vision slightly spotted with black. "And Queen consort of Spain, Naples and Jerusalem as the wife of my good husband, King Philip II of Spain, bestow upon the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, the title 'Princess', due to her position as the daughter of the late Henry VIII and the title and estates of the marquessate of Pembroke, as is her right due to it being previously owned by her mother, the late Queen Anne Boleyn. Upon my death, the Princess Elizabeth will be regent and rule on behalf of my daughter with a council of my chosen ministers until she attains her majority. Only if my daughter relinquishes her claim or dies without surviving issue, will the Princess Elizabeth succeed to the English crown. If the Princess Elizabeth wishes to marry, she must seek permission with Parliament, regardless of her position as Regent. If Philip II attempts to take my daughter away from England, the Princess Elizabeth is allowed to take up arms against him on the grounds of the safety of the realm."

Elizabeth wrote quietly, not believing what she had just heard.

Her beloved brother, Edward VI, had not given either her or Mary the title of 'Princess', and now she was given that title back along with the power and responsibilities of being regent to Mary's infant daughter! What a privilege!

"Call in the priest," said Mary, suddenly feeling fatigued. "I...I feel..."

Elizabeth nodded at the midwife, who immediately summoned the waiting priest.

"Reginald?" said Mary softly, coughing a little. "Is that you, Reginald Pole?"

Cardinal Reginald Pole, Archbishop of Canterbury and one of the sons of Mary's old governess, Lady Margaret Pole, 8th Countess of Salisbury bowed respectively.

Needless to say, he was a devout Catholic.

He shot Elizabeth a scathing look.

"Name your child," urged Elizabeth, ignoring him. "Your Majesty, no I mean Mary. Name your child! Do not leave her nameless, I beg of you!"

"Perhaps 'Margaret'?" suggested Cardinal Pole. "My mother was a martyr for the Catholic cause and it may be wise to name your daughter after a true Catholic believer. Your aunt, the late Queen of Scots, had always supported your right and promised sanctuary for Catholics and yourself. It is thoughtful if you can name your daughter after such a supporter. If not, then perhaps, 'Mary'? After your good self and the Holy Virgin? You must decide quickly."

Elizabeth nodded, agreeing with him for the first-and probably last-time.

Mary took a deep breath.

"My first child died..." she murmured, tears running down her face. "I am not one for childbearing. My darling Catherine was taken by God. I should have known my leniency to Protestants caused the Almighty's displeasure. I only wanted the people happy...I guess I was wrong. More heretics must be burnt. England must be cleansed...cleansed of this..." She coughed out blood.

"A name," said Cardinal Pole and Elizabeth in unison. "Please."

"My Catherine..." said Mary, clearly not paying attention to them due to her depression over the loss of her first child in 1554. "She was not even a year old..."

"Your Majesty," interrupted Reginald, handing her the cross. "Please. A name for your child. You will be welcomed to Heaven with open arms by God himself for the work you have done on his behalf, but you must name your daughter."

Mary breathed deeply.

"Pull back the curtains," she ordered, her eyes remaining closed. "Open the windows. It is getting too stuffy in here. I must have fresh air!"

Reginald looked expectedly at Elizabeth, and with a silent sigh, Elizabeth rose and obeyed.

She returned to her seat and tentatively squeezed Mary's hand.

Instinctively, Mary pulled away, but calmed down quickly.

"I am dying," said Mary, sounding like a frightened woman, her cold demeanour melting like a patch of snow in the early spring. "Elizabeth...I did not expect to die like this. Having a child...I always wanted one, but did not know how painful it actually would be...even when I saw Jane give birth to Edward...promise me you will take care of this child, Elizabeth! As a sister, promise me! This child _must _live for the good of the realm! She carries the hope of all Catholics!"

"I promise," said Elizabeth, genuinely truthful.

"Release Lady Jane Grey from the Tower," said Mary, gasping a little for breath. "Her marriage to that traitor Dudley's son had been annulled two years ago. Find her a good husband. Tell her I am truly sorry for her time there. It is unfortunate I cannot tell her that myself."

Again, Elizabeth nodded.

"First of January..." said Mary, with a callous laugh, clenching her cross tightly. "How convenient, do you not think, Elizabeth? My reign is over, and my daughter's one will begin in minutes. A child queen. My poor infant, thrusted into a pit of wolves. Elizabeth, give her the childhood you never had. Protect her from those hungry men. You will be a good surrogate mother."

"A name!" Elizabeth almost cried with desperation. "Please Mary! Do not leave it for us to name her! I will protect your child as if she is mine! She will be raised a Tudor, and never a Habsburg! If Philip comes to take her, I will fight with my life for her!"

Mary smiled, almost serenely.

"Blessed by God," she said so softly that it was barely a whisper. "I need my child to be blessed. She must save England from ruin. Elizabeth, I trust you will protect her with her life. For that, I name my daughter after you. Princess Elizabeth Tudor. Ha. The last two Tudors left. Both Elizabeth Tudors. Is that not funny? I hope you will teach her to be a good Catholic. Reginald, ensure my Elizabeth is raised a devout Catholic. I want you and my sister to _work_ together. Understand? Promise me."

Reginald and Elizabeth the Elder stared at each other unblinkingly. Reluctantly, they shook hands and swore a vow of peace and cooperation.

With an expression of calmness that she had not worn in quite a while, Mary I died with a peaceful smile, her hands clasped together with her eyes closed tranquilly.

**June, 1556**

Young Queen Elizabeth (affectionately nicknamed 'Lisbet') thrived under the care of an army of nursemaids and the love from her aunt Elizabeth.

During the last six months, Elizabeth noticed some changes.

Throughout Mary's rule, torrents of rain dominated England, crops refused to grow and the stench of burning flesh drifted through towns and remote villages. Every astrologer and seer predicted that with little Lisbet as queen, England will prosper.

In the long council meetings, one of the most heated and popular topics of debate was a possible husband for the infant queen.

Elizabeth wanted to wait, but the majority of councillors disagreed.

"It is of utmost importance to find a spouse for the Queen, Your Royal Highness," said Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby patiently. "I understand your concern for Her Majesty to grow and be educated, but the security of England lies entwined with her life. I suggest an English nobleman or a younger son of a ruling king or duke, that way the Queen can be raised alongside her future husband. I am sure you had potential spouses when you were in the cradle?"

"The Queen is not even a year old, my lord Derby!" protested Elizabeth in vain. "Indeed a husband must be found for her, but we must secure the right one! We should discuss it after we solve the issue of the King of Spain returning to England to claim his daughter and declare himself regent!"

"He _is_ her father," William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester said dryly.

"Do you want a Habsburg ruling England?!" demanded Elizabeth.

"Of course not!" said Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon adamantly. "That Spaniard will never rule England! Our Queen will not be his puppet!"

"Here is a list of potential spouses," said another, handing her a roll of parchment.

"They are most likely related to you," said Elizabeth sarcastically.

"We thought it would be wise..." said Derby uncertainly. "The Queen is a woman. Her mother married a foreigner, and look what happened! England failed to flourish, but there are already signs of success in the growth of crops and trade now that her daughter is queen. We thought it would be safer if the Queen marries a high-ranking nobleman."

"Oh? Who is the lucky noble?"

"We were um...thinking of Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey."

"You want my half-niece to marry one of my Howard cousins? I can assure you that if Mary was alive, she would have you executed for even thinking of that. I may be half-Howard by blood, but I am loyal to the Queen. I will not have another greedy Howard close to the throne. I even prefer William Courtenay as future husband to the Queen rather than a Howard."

"Of course, Your Highness. It was just a thought, nothing more. We will forget all about this. It was a mistake and we would never mention it again."

"Good. The meeting is over."

"What-"

"My lords, this meeting is over. We will talk again tomorrow at the same time as today, and hopefully we will agree on something."

Tired of foolish men, Elizabeth headed over to the royal nursery.

Her cousin, Lady Jane Grey, smiled as Elizabeth entered the chambers. They had not been on the best of terms during their childhood, but after both of them being treated with a journey to the Tower (Elizabeth was sent there for a few days under suspicion of participating in the Wyatt's Rebellion in 1554), they grew close to each other, and equally loved little Lisbet.

"How is our dear Queen progressing?" greeted Elizabeth.

"As beautiful as ever," answered Jane, leading her to the royal cradle. "She is more healthy than she was when she was born. She will need playmates when she grows older. A lonely childhood is what every child hates. Without siblings or cousins, Lisbet will need friends."

"I know," said Elizabeth, staring lovingly at the sleeping infant. "I have looked through lists of newborn children, or nobles around the same age as Lisbet. At the moment, my choices rest on Mistress Anne Knollys (born 1555), Mistress Susan Bertie (born 1554) and Mistress Mary Cavendish (born 1556). I understand that they are all Protestants, but there are no other children from well bred families to be her companions. Perhaps there may be this year or the next."

Jane nodded.

"What is it?" said Elizabeth, noticing her silence.

"My sister wishes to marry," Jane sighed, caressing Lisbet's tiny curled fingers as she slept like a sweet cherub. "Lady Catherine, that is. She pines to be married and to have children of her own. She was about to marry Sir Henry Herbert, the heir of William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke, before Mary was crowned the Queen of England. Lord Pembroke did not pursue the union. Catherine fell in love with Sir Henry and he with her when they first met, and he had not married, even though his father is keen for him to marry Lady Catherine Talbot, the daughter of the 6th Earl of Shrewsbury."

"True love is rare," said Elizabeth, wishing she had experienced the elixir of love. "Especially for those of royal blood. Does your mother not approve?"

Last year, the formidable Frances Grey (nee' Brandon), Duchess of Suffolk, had made a shocking-but considerably safe-match with her Master of the Horse, Adrian Stokes. It was a surprising love match, and the Duchess had mellowed slightly, and was less demanding and terrifying to her daughters. With him, she had a daughter, Mistress Elizabeth Stokes .

"What about my little sister?" said Jane suddenly.

"Hmm?" said Elizabeth, with a blink. "Which sister?"

"Elizabeth Stokes. She is only older than Lisbet by a few months. I know she is more common than the other girls on the list, but she has more royal and noble blood through her mother than the other ladies. I do not wish to advance the position of my family, but I want my baby sister to have the childhood I never had. I want her to be loved, not shouted at for the tiniest matters."

"Of course. I will put her name down."

"What will happen to my mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will she be allowed to return to Court after another month of banishment? If she is, what will she be

addressed as? I do not think she will be happy to be only 'Lady Frances, Mistress Stokes.'"

"She will remain as the Dowager Duchess of Suffolk I suppose."

"What about my sister? You are regent, and matches must be approved by you. Will you allow my sister to marry Sir Henry as planned?"

"Of course, with your mother's permission, and Lord Pembroke's agreement. What about you? Will you marry and have children of your own? You are still in the Line of Succession and most likely viewed as a desirable bride by others."

"No. After my brief marriage with Lord Guildford Dudley..."

"I am sorry for that."

"There's nothing you could have done to prevent it."

"You were forced to marry that arrogant bastard."

She clenched her fists as she thought of her cousin married to the pig-faced Guildford Dudley. He did not deserve such a pious lady like Jane.

"I will have a portrait commissioned," declared Elizabeth. "Of you and your sisters. The palace has enough portraits of our ancestors and not enough for current family members."

"You do not have to," said Jane, who had brashly decided to be a nun. "I know you wish to make up for all the horrors I endured, but you do not need to. I will never marry. I will never allow myself to be dominated by a husband, or a man who will push me around for his own purposes, or marry me only because of my royal blood. I am thinking of entering a convent."

"Oh Jane! Do not do so on an impulse!"

"The longer I stay here, the longer I remain a possible bride. The only way to escape is to pledge myself to be the bride of Christ. Elizabeth, I do not want to be a wife and mother."

"I will try and help you with all my power."

"Thank you."

Lisbet opened her eyes and smiled at them.

Imperiously, she lifted her arms and Elizabeth carried her away from the security of the bundle of finest blankets sewed in England.

Nothing can be imperfect for the little queen.

"Good afternoon sweetheart," cooed Elizabeth, as Lisbet began making baby noises. "How is Your Majesty feeling, after a nice, long nap? No council meetings for you, eh? How do you feel having young Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey as your husband?"

Lisbet frowned, but smiled again as Elizabeth's plain pearl necklace caught her eye. Lisbet reached for it and yanked it a little, the troop of nursemaids covering their laughter with their hands. Jane almost snorted when Lisbet seemed to examine the necklace more closely.

"She never cries," she said proudly.

"Lisbet inherited Mary's seriousness," agreed Elizabeth. "It is a good trait for a queen. I suppose Philip II of Spain is a solemn man too. The people should see their Queen, even if she is six months old. Lisbet must get used to the constant eyes of the people."

Jane nodded.

"She should be raised simply," she added.

"Really?" said Elizabeth, a little taken back. "Lisbet is Queen of England!"

"Indeed, but if Lisbet is taught the ways of the common folk, she will learn to serve as well as to _be _served. She will understand matters such as the importance of money, supply of food, and most likely develop a close relationship with the people. Of course Lisbet must appease the aristocracy too, but I think if she knows the ways of the common people, it may benefit her rule later."

"That is an excellent idea, Jane! What do we do? Pack her off to the country and ask a trusted knight and his family to take care of her?"

"That is not such a bad thought."

"The councillors will object most vehemently. They will want their little queen to be reaped in gold, deepening our debts and weakening the exchequer."

"Perhaps a compromise can be made? Lisbet will be given an excellent education and remain in the royal household, but what if we take her for walks throughout the towns and villages in disguise? She will see firsthand what the common folk live like and it can change her perspectives from the comfort zone behind the palace walls. Mary most likely would have wanted her daughter to be a compassionate queen who rules justly."

"Yes. We will do that. Thank heavens the burnings have ceased!"

"Indeed. It would be horrible if they continued. It was wise that you ordered all the unlawfully committed prisoners to be freed and for the burnings to stop."

Elizabeth smiled a little, shuddering at the vision of Protestants eaten by the burning flames, with the smell of burnt human flesh spread throughout England. Their screams had haunted her for months, and she had many sleepless nights in fear of the royal guards marching into her chambers and arresting her for her religious beliefs.

Now, she could sleep peacefully.

Until Lisbet is of age, Elizabeth was determined to rule England well, with a tolerance for both Catholics and Protestants. Peace must be held at all costs.

"You are holding the key to salvation in your arms," said Jane quietly, referring to baby Lisbet. "She is born to a Catholic, but will be raised a Protestant. Lisbet will open the doors to a prosperous England with no more religious tensions. I know she will."

* * *

**First Tudor fanfic! Reviews greatly appreciated! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Characters:**

-Queen Elizabeth 'Lisbet' (1556-)

-Princess Elizabeth Tudor (1533-)

-Philip II of Spain (1527-)

-Lady Jane Grey (1536-)

-Catherine, Lady Herbert (1540-)

-Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby (1509-)

-William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester (1483-)

-Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon (1527-)

-Lord Robert Dudley (1532-)

-William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke (1501-)

-Sir Henry Herbert, Baron Herbert (1539-)

-Lady Elizabeth Herbert (1558-)

-Lady Mary Herbert (1560-)

-Henry Percy, 8th Earl of Northumberland (1532-)

-John de Vere, 16th Earl of Oxford (1516-)

-Henry FitzAlan, 19th Earl of Arundel (1512-)

-William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley (1520-)

* * *

**December, 1560**

The Christmas spirit was more jolly than before. The courtiers moved around excitedly, all eager to see their Queen's first public appearance.

Lisbet was equally as excited.

She was a precocious child and had learnt to speak at two years of age, and became fluent in French and a little Latin by Elizabeth's patient teaching. Even though it pained Elizabeth, Lisbet was taught the Catholic beliefs by Thomas Watson, Bishop of Lincoln who was a pupil of the Catholic martyr, Bishop John Fisher. Lisbet was also taught to play the virginals, the lyre and the lute and seemed to be an expert on the virginals like her mother was.

Elizabeth had no patience for embroidery and needlework, and that was when Jane continued Lisbet's womanly education. Lisbet's childish chatter was considered sweet and musical, and the Court musicians were confident she would be a brilliant singer.

Her auburn-goldish hair had grown wavy with attractive ringlets, the top of her hair flaming red, with the tips at the bottom a lovely gold colour.

Everyone agreed she was a striking lady in the making.

There was always a smile on her heart-shaped face and her now deep blue eyes sparkled as her infectiously sweet laughter echoed through the palace.

"My first Christmas at Court!" exclaimed Lisbet, clapping her small hands together. "Oh! Would it not be exciting, Elizabeth? Jane? All the nobles will bow to me when the herald calls my name! Do you think they will give me presents?!"

"Christmas is a time for peace," said Elizabeth, placing a silver tiara on her abundant hair. "The people bow and curtsey to you because they respect you. You must love and respect them back, and at Christmas, everyone exchanges gifts as an act of good relations."

"What normally happens in celebrations?"

"Dancing, feasting, talking and watching a pageant."

"Who will I dance with? I have learnt new court dances!"

"I know you have, poppet. Everyone will wish to dance with you, and as the Queen, you have the choice of choosing whoever you want to dance with."

"Your Majesty," said Lord Robert Dudley (Master of the Horse in Lisbet's household), at the door. "The courtiers are waiting for you."

"Thank you Lord Robert," said Lisbet, who had been practising her lines all morning, which impressed her ladies greatly. "I will be there shortly."

He bowed, caught sight of Elizabeth and devilishly winked at her.

She gracefully raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

_I cannot possibly fall for him,_ thought Elizabeth, finding herself staring after him. _It is my duty to rule fairly and look after Lisbet. How will I be able to do that if I am head-over-heels in love with Robert, or even experiencing a sort of unusual emotion towards him. Besides, he had been recently widowed a few months ago by the tragic death of his wife, Lady Amy Dudley. The Dudleys have been viewed with suspicion, and it would not do any of us any favours if we...if love exists between us. I was named regent, and I must dedicate every second of my life to Lisbet and for England._

"What do you think, Elizabeth?" said Jane, putting a tiny jewelled bracelet around Lisbet's wrist as a final touch. "Is she not so beautiful?"

"As lovely as an angel," said Elizabeth, as Lisbet swirled around in a Tudor green dress of the finest material. "Are you ready?"

Lisbet nodded, and obediently took her hand as they walked to the great hall.

Jane followed them, wearing a gown of grey instead of her usual black.

The mahogany double doors flung open as the three approached it.

"Presenting Her Majesty, the Queen of England!" announced the herald, as the courtiers automatically swept into magnificent bows and curtsies once Lisbet entered the great hall. "Her Royal Highness, the Princess Elizabeth, and the Lady Jane Grey!"

Lisbet smiled and nodded at the courtiers as she walked passed them with an unusual air of confidence and innocence for a four year old queen. She beamed more broadly when she noticed her companions, Anne Knollys, Susan Bertie and Mary Cavendish beside their parents and siblings.

Elizabeth helped her onto her chair, and the others sat down. Lisbet stood up-to Elizabeth's surprise-and the courtiers remained silent.

"Good nobles," she spoke clearly. "It is a pleasure to celebrate Christmas with you! Please! Enjoy the feast we are united together for!"

The courtiers clapped and cheered her name.

She was already loved greatly.

"Well done, Lisbet," praised Elizabeth, as the servants came in, carrying silver platters, which in turn held the cooks' masterpieces. "I see you have practised that all morning! You are a good queen. Have you tried the quail eggs? I heard they are very tasty."

"Thank you Aunt Elizabeth," said Lisbet shyly, blushing at the compliment. "I wanted to say something special tonight, and I asked my tutors for advice. Together, we came up with the message. They said it is better for a shorter sentence which I can say well in, rather than a whole speech. Enchanting the audience is the most important."

Elizabeth almost shuddered at the word 'enchanting'.

Her mother's name always preceded words such as that, 'alluring', and 'witchery'.

"Are you alright?" said Lisbet, her wide eyes watching her innocently.

"Yes," said Elizabeth, recovering quickly. "You must thank your tutors, John Fowler and Roger Ascham, for their advice and help."

"Of course," said Lisbet, maturely reaching for a slice of pie. "Education and knowledge are the best gifts a girl can receive in the world."

Jane nodded approvingly.

It was not long before it was time to dance.

"Your Highness," said Lord Robert, approaching Elizabeth. "May I have this dance?"

With a graceful nod, she rose and followed him to the dance floor, where other couples have already began twirling and dancing in time to the music. She smiled at Robert and the both of them began dancing in tune so beautifully.

"They are so happy together," said Lisbet, watching them with a naive smile. "Don't you agree, Lady Jane? I never saw Aunt Elizabeth so content before!"

"They are friends," Jane informed her, not believing she was having that conversation with a four year old girl. "Nothing more. Oh look. There is Sir Edward Stafford, younger brother to Henry Stafford, 2nd Baron Stafford and the husband of Lady Mary Stanley (daughter of the 3rd Earl of Derby). Do you think he will ask you to dance?"

"Your Majesty," said the twenty five year old Sir Edward, moving towards Lisbet with a bow. "Will you do me the honour by accepting my offer to dance?"

With a childish giggle, Lisbet accepted and went to dance.

The courtiers looked at her with admiration and love.

"That poor girl," they said to one another. "Daughter of Bloody Mary and the Spaniard. Thank heavens she is raised by the good Princess Elizabeth! Imagine what would have happened if the Catholic Queen survived the ordeal! She would have made her darling daughter a complete Catholic and ensured the child's education consisting of watching our good people burn to death! Now we must pray the Princess is able to keep the sweet girl safe from the Spaniard! He is a horrible father! The only time he will remember the girl is when he wishes to claim England as his own!"

They shook their heads at the thought.

Jane watched the courtiers dance, a little envious. She wondered if she would ever be happy again. Of course she had almost recovered from the traumatising experience in the Tower and her short, miserable marriage with the uncouth and sulky Guildford Dudley, but she wanted true happiness. That was something royals rarely receive.

"Jane!" said her sister, Catherine-now Lady Herbert-joining her at the table. "What are you doing, sitting here all alone? There are plenty of eligible men out there! You are still young, beautiful and descended from royalty! We are part of the royal family after all! At least you have discarded those plain black gowns you seemed to love to wear when we were younger! Oh look! There is the widowed William Paulet, Lord St John! Word in court, is that he is looking for a new wife. He is the grandson of the 1st Marquess of Winchester, an old man who may die any day-"

"Catherine!" scolded Jane. "Do not be so rude to your elders!"

"Of course you would say that! Oh, don't you want to be a marchioness?! Oh my! Look! If it isn't Edward Seymour, 1st Earl of Hertford! Isn't he dashing?!"

"Catherine. You are a married woman. Why don't you go and dance with your husband, or those men you claim are extremely handsome?"

"Um, for an obvious reason?"

Jane glanced her sister and realised Catherine's visible pregnancy.

"I am so sorry!" she gasped. "I did not think that you are with child! My mind was too busy thinking of other matters that I neglected to ask about your condition! Pardon me, Catherine! Congratulations on your fertility! Is it your second?"

"Yes," said Catherine, beaming with joy. "My first was in 1558. A darling girl, remember? I named her 'Elizabeth', after the Queen. She will join the Queen's household next year. The physicians say the child will come at any day now. If it is a girl, we will name her 'Anne', after the late Countess of Pembroke, or perhaps 'Mary', after the late Queen of England. If a boy, he will be called either 'Henry', after his father, or 'William', after the 1st Earl of Pembroke."

"I hope it will go well," said Jane, wondering if she would be able to carry a child to term or not. "I will pray for you and the child, dear sister."

**January, 1561**

With Lisbet's agreement, Elizabeth ordered a lavish christening for their baby cousin, Lady Mary Herbert as if the infant was a princess of the blood royal.

Lord Herbert was pleased with one of those rare noblemen who is placated with whatever he was given, and was never picky about precious items. When he was presented with another daughter, he was as joyous as if the child was a son.

When Elizabeth suggested the name 'Mary', he accepted it without question.

His father, the Earl, was quite content with another granddaughter.

Of course a grandson would be more ideal than a granddaughter, but as long as the child was healthy and well, he was satisfied.

The Earl's contentment with life was to such an extent, that he asked Elizabeth for letters patent that will allow his eldest granddaughter (Lady Elizabeth Herbert) to succeed to the earldom of Pembroke if she had no brothers.

Lisbet was named a godmother for baby Mary Herbert.

It was a ceremony she would never forget.

**April. 1561**

"We have a problem, gentlemen," announced Elizabeth, in another council meeting. "I have received a letter from the King of Spain. It seems he will be visiting England shortly."

"He must not return!" said Winchester adamantly. "The King of Spain must not set foot in England, unless he is by himself with a few Spaniards! Write back to him, Your Highness, stating that! Otherwise, all our ports will be closed to him!"

"That will be a sign of hostility," Elizabeth pointed out.

"We were never on good relations with Spain anyway," grumbled Pembroke.

"We _were_," Elizabeth corrected him. "When my late father married Catherine of Aragon, relations with Spain improved greatly. Yes, the Spaniards are unreliable, but we cannot just allow a foreign monarch to be stranded near our ports! Our enemies will be immediate allies with him! However, I am willing to write to the King of Spain, stating that no more than a hundred Spaniards (including himself) will be allowed on our lands. What say you to that, gentlemen?"

"That is more fair," agreed Henry Percy, 8th Earl of Northumberland. "Our troops are more superior, and this is our land. If the King of Spain wishes to discuss another treaty with England, that can be arranged, but if he demands the position of regent, well...Your Highness? What do you say to that? I doubt you will relinquish your position as regent to him!"

"I will not," answered Elizabeth. "I will die before handing over English rights to a greedy Spaniard! The last thing I want is Spaniards crawling through the streets of England!"

The councillors nodded in agreement.

"He doesn't have any brothers," said Derby helpfully.

"True," said John de Vere, 16th Earl of Oxford thoughtfully. "Thank heavens! If he did, he will most likely betroth the Queen to a loyal Spaniard nephew. What else is mentioned in the letter, Your Highness? I am certain three pages of parchment are not only full of his idea of visiting England!"

A couple of councillors laughed.

"It includes a marriage proposal," said Elizabeth quietly. "Philip II offers to marry me for the sake of peace between the two nations. He wrote that if I agree to it, he will allow me to remain as regent until I have a child. Then we will hypothetically rule together on behalf of the Queen. He has his own heir, and I am the Queen's heiress. I doubt the King of Spain will murder his own daughter to be King of England, but what if we have a son? He may support his rights more than the Queen's."

"What if another lady is chosen to be his wife instead?" suggested Northumberland. "What about the Lady Jane Grey? She is unmarried, and the great-niece of Henry VIII. Let us say Philip II marries her, she must convert into Catholicism and swear on her life and those of her descendants, not to challenge her claims to the Throne as she did before."

"She was a pawn the last time."

"Indeed, but this time, she must swear not to challenge the Succession."

"If both parties agree to it, then very well. However, I do not think either Lady Jane Grey nor the King of Spain wish to marry each other. For one, Lady Jane Grey is not a princess, and she is a Protestant. I doubt she will give up her faith for peace with Spain."

"Lady Jane Grey is aware of her duty to the state, and if she is to marry the King of Spain, she should be grateful and honoured!"

"Exactly," agreed Derby. "It is not often a noblewoman can marry a king!"

The others nodded and murmured softly.

"What about the Queen?" called Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk. "If the King of Spain is coming, would he not wish to marry his daughter off for an alliance to his advantage? She is the Queen of England, but she is legally his daughter."

Elizabeth bit her lip.

What Norfolk said made perfect sense, but what kind of father would leave his daughter all alone without sending her loving letters?

She had often wondered if Philip II sent Lisbet any letters.

She remembered his delayed letter in 1556, requesting his daughter to be christened either 'Isabella' (for his mother), 'Mary' (for the Virgin Mary) or 'Philippa' (the feminine version of his own name). She was given the awkward the task of writing back, stating that Mary had already named their daughter 'Elizabeth' and it was too late to change it.

He did not write back.

"The King of Spain had lost custody of his daughter for a long time," declared William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley, slamming his fist down on the table. "He had refused to attend his wife's funeral, the Queen's christening and coronation and plotted with our enemies! The Queen is no Habsburg! She is a Tudor! A Tudor! Here me?! England is her dowry, and she is not to be used as a pawn for the plans of a scheming Spaniard! I rather her the daughter of a bloody, cruel Catholic Queen of England than the daughter of a sly, heartless Catholic King of Spain!"

"YES!"

"A Tudor! The Queen is a Tudor!"

"We will have no Spanish king on the English throne again!"

"Indeed, a Tudor Queen!"

"Scotland has made its intentions clear!" shouted Elizabeth, as the racket died down. "They Scotsmen have married their Queen Mary to the Dauphin-now King-Francis II of France! We have agreed that an alliance with the Habsburgs is a mistake and clearly will not happen! We must have allies! The religious turmoil in the reigns of my half-siblings have not helped either! The Queen will eventually need a spouse, and we must decide which country is the most important to have a firm alliance with! I will not have her married to a ruler of a turncoat kingdom!"

The councillors nodded in firm agreement.

"If you ask me, France is the only kingdom close and reliable," said Norfolk doubtfully. "It is the only other powerful country that is not Habsburg dominated."

"I am afraid Lord Norfolk is right," agreed Henry FitzAlan, 19th Earl of Arundel, whose daughter, Lady Mary, was Norfolk's first wife and mother of Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey. "Unless you believe the Austrian Habsburgs are willing to cut an alliance with Spain, France is the only strong option to form a good alliance with. I can imagine the old King Henri II of France's delight for two of his sons married to the two queens of Scotland and England."

The majority of councillors murmured with approval.

"France..." said Elizabeth distantly.

"Is there something wrong, Your Highness?" inquired Derby.

"What if the chosen French prince claims England as his own?" asked Elizabeth.

"We can put terms in the marital treaty," said Winchester, a smile spreading on his face. "Yes, that is what we shall do. The chosen French prince will be addressed as 'His Royal Highness, the Prince Consort/Duke Consort' unless he somehow happens to succeed to the French Throne. Let us say that to cement the treaty permanently from threats from Spain, a marriage between an English prince or princess and a French royal will be made in every generation to come."

"Yes!" said Oxford, in full agreement.

"We will draft a copy of it," decided Northumberland. "As quickly as possible."

"Very well," said Elizabeth, standing up. "Once you have agreed on the terms, give it to me for the final reading. I will write to the King of Spain. We will discuss this matter again tomorrow. My Lord Burghley, please gather a list of suitable candidates to be the Queen's husband, no matter who it is, Habsburg or no Habsburg. I want it by the end of the day, or at the most, tomorrow morning."

"Yes Your Highness," said Burghley, with a deep bow.

"This meeting is adjourned," said Elizabeth, striding out the room in a most unladylike fashion, too occupied to notice the bows of her councillors.

She immediately sent for Jane.

"What is it?" said Jane at once. "Are you alright?"

"Where is the Queen?" said Elizabeth anxiously. "Is she safe?"

"In the schoolroom..." said Jane curiously. "Of course she is protected! There is a guard in the classroom and at least three or four outside. She is the Queen! We will never lower her guards! Why? Is there a problem, Elizabeth? You look as pale as a ghost!"

"Oh thank God she is still here! Ensure her household does not move castles without my notice. Does she receive any letters from anyone? Even when she was a young infant? Any at all? Does um, she speak of her father at all?"

"Elizabeth, what is with those odd questions? Lisbet had started writing when she was three years old, and I suppose some of us do send her letters for fun, as she seems to enjoy writing back. Lisbet finds it amusing to ask her servants to deliver letters to us and other nobles. Of course the servants don't read the letters, as there is nothing incriminating or important for her to say-"

"What about from the King of Spain?"

"Does Lisbet even know her father is the King of Spain?"

"We hardly mention it, I suppose. We are too focused on her education."

"All the important letters go through me first, and I never received one from the King of Spain, or any other ruler or foreign delegate. Lisbet can hardly write complex sentences and has not learnt statecraft properly yet. What is going on? Please Elizabeth. Tell me."

"The King of Spain is visiting England. His intentions aren't fully clear..."

"What? Does he wish to govern England in Lisbet's name?"

"Yes. That is only one part. Either he wants to be regent (or appoint his own Spanish regent) or...in a

letter, he offered to marry me for the sake of peace between our great nations. A marriage proposal."

"To marry you?!"

"If Lisbet dies without issue, I will succeed her as queen of England, and he will have the opportunity to be King again. If not and we have a son, he will most likely be a Habsburg, and he will have allegiance and a strong relationship with his Habsburg relations. England will be no more."

"Did you accept?"

"I am still deliberating on it. However, the councillors have other ideas..."

"Like what?"

"They proposed the idea of the King of Spain marrying...you instead. You are royal, but not in the first three positions in the Line of Succession."

Jane stared at her, horrified.

Another marriage?! Her first was daunting enough, but to live in Spain, in a court of foreigners?! By God! She cannot even speak Spanish!

"I doubt it would come to anything," Elizabeth reassured her terrified cousin. "The King of Spain is a proud man and I do not think he is willing to marry a noblewoman of royal blood and is a Protestant. He is a more fervent Catholic than Mary. As long as he does not keep in contact with Lisbet, I am certain that all will be well. That is until Lisbet begins asking_ those_ questions..."

* * *

**Please read and review! Any ideas for future chapters are welcome! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Characters:**

-Queen Elizabeth 'Lisbet' (1556-)

-Princess Elizabeth Tudor (1533-)

-Philip II of Spain (1527-)

-Elisabeth de Valois, Queen of Spain (1545-)

-Charles IX of France (1550-)

-Catherine de Medici, Queen Mother of France (1519-)

-Lady Jane Grey (1536-)

-Catherine, Lady Herbert (1540-)

-Margaret, Baroness Strange (1540-)

-Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby (1509-)

-William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester (1483-)

-Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon (1527-)

-Lord Robert Dudley (1532-)

-William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke (1501-)

-Sir Henry Herbert, Baron Herbert (1539-)

-Lady Elizabeth Herbert (1558-)

-Lady Mary Herbert (1560-)

-Henry Percy, 8th Earl of Northumberland (1532-)

-John de Vere, 16th Earl of Oxford (1516-)

-Henry FitzAlan, 19th Earl of Arundel (1512-)

-William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley (1520-)

-Henry Stanley, Baron Strange (1531-)

-Sir William Courtenay (1529-)

-Spanish Ambassador, Diego Guzman de Silva (1520-)

* * *

**May, 1561**

The cold Philip II sat in front of his mahogany desk, reading letters and drafted edicts that stacked up like mounds on his table.

He tapped the desk with his slim, strong fingers as he read patiently.

"Your Majesty," said a messenger at the door. "His Excellency, Diego Guzman de Silva is here. Will you see him now?"

"Yes," said Philip II, putting the parchment down. "Indeed I will. I hope he has good news. Perhaps that of my prospective marriage to that...heretic princess."

The Spanish ambassador Diego, walked in and bowed.

"Your Excellency," said Philip II pleasantly. "You look well."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," answered Diego. "You do to, if I may say so. I received news from the Regent of England, Princess Elizabeth. She showed disinterest in marriage, but told me to tell you that she is considering your proposal and if you are honourable enough to give her another month to discuss matters with her Privy Council."

"Good. Very good. I can wait a month. Is that all?"

"Your daughter, the Queen of England is quite healthy-"

"Bah! I do not care about the health of my bloody daughter! If Maria truly loved me, she would have named her Felipa or Isabel per my request! Instead, she named her after a heretic. Perhaps Maria was not the Catholic I thought she was. Once the Princess accepts my proposal, I will be a prince of England through marriage. I hope the queen dies once we have a son, then the heretic will ascend the throne and I will be a King of England once again. This time I will ensure England will be fully Catholic before our son succeeds to the throne."

"Your Majesty, the Queen is your daughter!"

"If she is, why is she not here? Should not a daughter be with her father? I heard rumours that the English are planning a betrothal for her already!"

"Betrothals are normally formed when the children are still in their cradles, Your Majesty, as you well know. Not all of them end in fruition."

"Indeed. I was betrothed to Maria Manuela, Princess of Portugal since I was a young child. Our marriage ended after she died giving birth to that...that child. At least she had a son while Maria of England could not even manage that. Who is this prince the English betrothed my daughter to-without my permission, if I may add? Another German heretic?"

"The councillors are considering to have a permanent alliance with France, and I heard they had already drew up a list of eligible French princes around the Queen's age. I doubt they will send her to France like the Scottish did upon the early engagement of the Queen of Scots and the Dauphin of France. However, there is a couple that are not French."

"Oh? Do I know them, Excellency?"

"One, is the young King of Portugal."

"Well! Are the English planning to unify Portugal and England?! That is absolutely impossible, territorially speaking! Of course they were allies a few centuries ago, through the marriage of Dona Felipa de Lancastre and Juan I of Portugal. I doubt it will work."

"As I thought, Your Majesty. The other is Archduke Ernest of Austria, a son of Maximilian II, Holy Roman Emperor. I doubt they want a Habsburg married to their Queen."

"Ah! That is a more suitable candidate in our favour."

"The Archduke is a Habsburg-"

"Not only that, but he is not a monarch! Let us say that the English affiance my daughter to him, and I marry the heretic princess. Even if I am not king, the Archduke can spread Habsburg influence! That match I most certainly approve of!"

"Unfortunately, the English councillors do not. Another candidate is Henri, Prince of Viana. He is the heir to the Navarrese throne, but his father Antoine I, was a French prince at birth, and his maternal grandmother was Princess Marguerite de Angouleme, the sister to Francis I of France. The remainder of the candidates are the Count of Harcourt (heir to Rene II of Lorraine, Marquis of Elbeuf), Monsieur Charles de Aumale (heir to Claude, Duke of Aumale), the Count du Maine (second son of Francis, Duke of Guise), the Duke of Angouleme (younger brother to the new King of France-Charles IX), the King of France himself, and the Prince of Joinville (heir to Francis, Duke of Guise)."

"The Prince of Joinville is the elder brother of the Count du Maine, yes?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty. You are quite well-informed. Is there anything else you wish to know, before I beg my leave, Your Majesty?"

"No, no. You may go. I will call for you again when I need you. You have done well, Excellency. I will grant you a higher pay once you return to England."

**June, 1561**

"A month is almost over," murmured Elizabeth, pacing in her chambers worriedly. "The council meeting is in this afternoon and I must give in my decision. The Spanish ambassador will be there to hear my final answer. Oh God, Jane. What can I do?"

"Decline politely?" suggested Jane.

"That will not do! Philip II will be furious! It was thoughtless and reckless of the councillors to agree for you to be a substitute. That will not do! He will break all ties with England at that insult! My apologies Jane, but it had been a tiring night-"

"I understand, Elizabeth. What will you do? The councillors cannot stop you. Will you marry him and become Lisbet's stepmother? Peace will be maintained. The Spanish King is making an effort through proposing to you. It must burn him alive, thinking of the thought of marrying a Protestant. I will support you in whatever decision you make. Even if you still offer me up as a replacement. If you do so, please do not make me convert."

"I will never do such a thing!"

"Thank you, Elizabeth!"

Before Elizabeth could say another word, the door opened and Lisbet walked in with a confused expression. Elizabeth noticed she clutched a piece of parchment.

_Dear God_, she thought. _Please...I hope it is not what I think it is..._

"Aunt Elizabeth," Lisbet spoke, handing her the letter. "Who is the King of Spain and why does he write to me, not you? He said that he will see me shortly."

"Sit down," said Elizabeth, patting to a cushioned chair beside her. "It is a long story, and I think it is about time you should know."

Lisbet sat down, looking at her curiously.

Jane slowly exited the room.

"The King of Spain is your father," said Elizabeth quietly. "He rules Spain while your mother ruled England. He has his own son from another marriage, Carlos, Prince of Asturias, and the King had not set foot in England for many years. He is a good king, but not a good father. Perhaps he finally decided to visit and see you in person. What does the letter say?"

"He will be in England soon," said the bewildered five year old.

"Yes. Probably to see you. Does he say anything else?"

"I am to be presented a new mother?"

"What?! Give me that letter!"

Ignoring Lisbet's horrified expression, Elizabeth grabbed the letter from Lisbet's small hand and scanned through it rapidly, cursing under her breath.

"He sent you the wrong letter," lied Elizabeth, gritting her teeth. "Your father was mistaken. I have no idea what he is talking about."

"He addressed it to me," Lisbet pointed out. "He said 'to my dear daughter, Elizabeth'."

"He has another daughter by that name."

"In England?"

"Perhaps...he has an illegitimate daughter by the same name?"

"He does not love me?"

"I am sure he does, poppet, but he has to write to his other children too. Maybe this other Elizabeth he is addressing is older than you and he thinks she can understand more than you? I am sure in a year or two, your father will write properly to you. We are keeping him informed about your learning and your state of health every week."

It was a lie Elizabeth knew the Almighty would forgive.

"I have a sister with the same name as me?" said Lisbet, confused. "Why have I never met her, and I never saw father either..."

"Your 'sister' is very ill," said Elizabeth, almost cringing at the amount of lies she heaped on the poor young girl. "She may die at any minute."

Lisbet nodded solemnly.

"Do you wish to keep this?" Elizabeth asked.

"No," replied Lisbet gravely. "It is not for me. I think I will go and find my companions to sew for a little while. I will be in my chambers."

She curtsied to her and left.

"Lisbet took it well," said Jane, reappearing at the door. "She is not in tears or anything! If I just realised I had a father who only began sending letters to me, I will be heartbroken! I suppose Lisbet is emotionally strong, or good at hiding it."

"I lied," said Elizabeth, walking with her to the meeting. "It is unfortunate, but I have to protect her. If she gains any knowledge of the King of Spain's true intentions, her world will crumble. I can already imagine it, and trust me. It is a horrible thought. The more unaware Lisbet is of her father, the better. She may learn about the burnings through gossip or by accident if she finds out about her ancestry, and that will cause her to suffer greatly. She will lose faith in herself. Thank heavens she is young now, but the courtiers won't keep silent for long."

"What do we do? Threaten them into silence?"

"No. Warn her tutors I suppose."

"You are still raising her a decent Catholic."

"I cannot disobey Mary's dying wishes, even if the majority of the councillors want her to be a Protestant. I hope she will be fair in religious terms."

"She probably will with you as a surrogate mother."

"Keep an eye on her, will you? I must attend this meeting. Oh, if you see the Spanish ambassador, can you postpone him for an hour or so? I need to talk to my councillors without him being present. Offer him a cup of ale or something."

"Very well."

Elizabeth rushed off, more nervous than ever.

"Your Highness," said Oxford, catching sight of her anxious face. "Are you alright? You are here half an hour earlier than planned."

"It is an emergency, Lord Oxford," said Elizabeth, taking her seat in front of the diminished council. "I know not all of you are here, but it is urgent. I do not care if there is only six of you here, but six is better than none. I was talking to the Queen before I came here, and the Queen had received her first letter from the King of Spain. It states his intentions to come to England with a new wife."

"No!" exclaimed Derby. "That is impossible!"

"We have agreed that Your Highness will not marry the King of Spain!" shouted Northumberland. "I want to know how the Queen can receive a letter from that royal scoundrel! Will she be safe from those Spaniards?! Will we have to move?!"

"Calm down!" snapped Derby.

"I lied to the Queen," said Elizabeth, swallowing uncomfortably. "For her safety. For now, we must work under the assumption that the Queen is unaware that her father is the King of Spain. The Spanish ambassador will be here in at least an hour, so we must discuss what to do. Most likely, Philip II expects a positive answer to his proposal...?"

"Offer him a choice," said Winchester calmly. "Either he can marry the Lady Jane Grey to solidify an alliance with England and will be allowed a certain, limited amount of influence in governing England in the Queen's name, or he can refuse and will not be given any power at all, and will only be acknowledged as the King of Spain and the Queen's father."

"Very well," said Elizabeth, feeling a prickling sensation on her back. "That is our only offer. If he wishes

to be more fatherly to the Queen, he is welcome. He will never be the King of England again."

The councillors nodded.

"What about the Queen's possible spouse?" asked Oxford. "Every year, she is growing older and soon the time will come when she needs an heir. Every month that passes, other royal princes will be affianced to other princesses and the Queen will not have a husband of high standing and royal blood, and preferably not related in any way to the Habsburgs."

"Send a messenger to France," Elizabeth said, thinking quickly. "Suggest a marital alliance between a French prince and the Queen. Tell the King's mother (Catherine de Medici, the Queen Mother) that the chosen prince, will have influence in English politics."

"What?" said Derby and Devon in unison.

That was clearly not something they expected.

"We have no choice," said Elizabeth helplessly. "Even if we dangle England under the French king's nose, it may not be enough. I for one, will not cede any territory to them. We can say that if the French councillors want the chosen prince to be king consort, they will have to give us the territories of Lille, Arras and Amiens and return Calais. We will allow the English and French to jointly rule over those places, but they will remain integrated in England."

"That is fair," said Northumberland, with a nod. "If you permit, I will go to France and propose the marriage treaty. The Auld Alliance between France and Scotland is slightly damaged, now that Francis II of France is dead. It is excellent news for us. We should take the opportunity and befriend France. The Queen Mother is shrewd, and imagine her delight in another son marrying a queen with England as her dowry. I can guarantee that her eyes will be as wide as dishes. If we address her, it can ensure that the Queen will have a Valois prince as a husband."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

"That we shall do," she decided.

"Your Royal Highness," called the herald at the door. "My lords, His Excellency, the Spanish ambassador has arrived! Shall I call him in?"

"Not yet," said Elizabeth hastily. "Take him to the dining hall and give him refreshments and advise him to rest for a while before the meeting."

The herald nodded and left.

Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief.

"You are not ready to inform him?" inquired Arundel.

"Not yet," said Elizabeth truthfully. "I want to gather the proposal straight and ready, in case we make any blunders or errors. Lord Derby, do you have the proposed treaty?"

Derby nodded and handed her a rolled piece of parchment, neatly tied with a red ribbon. He was a man of tidiness, even though he never cleaned a room in his life before!

"_Terms of the Treaty of Richmond, 1561_," read Elizabeth out loud. "_If His Majesty of Spain intends to continue offering marriage to an English princess of the blood royal for peace between the great nations of England and Spain, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Regent offers the Lady Jane Grey (great-niece of Henry VIII of England) as His Majesty's spouse, with a dowry of two hundred thousand pounds and certain powers of influence in the English government. If the Lady Jane Grey is refused, all powers of influence for His Majesty will be refused, and he will only be seen and addressed as the King of Spain, a royal foreign visitor and the Queen's Father_."

She nodded with approval.

"What if Lady Jane refuses to marry him?" said Devon curiously.

"There is her sister," suggested Norfolk tentatively. "Lady Mary Grey. She is eight years younger than the Lady Jane Grey, but is equally as royal. Perhaps we can alter the document a little. Instead of 'the Princess Regent offers the Lady Jane Grey', perhaps replace it with 'the Princess Regent offers _either _Lady Jane or Lady Mary Grey'?"

"Very well," said Elizabeth, quickly rewriting the terms of the Treaty of Richmond on another sheet of parchment. "That is fairer."

While Elizabeth and her councillors conferred and ratified the treaty in the council hall behind heavy closed doors, Jane sat in a room nearby with Margaret Stanley (nee' Clifford), Baroness Strange, the wife of the Earl of Derby's heir, Henry Stanley, Baron Strange, and her first cousin (Margaret's mother was Eleanor Brandon, the Dowager Duchess of Suffolk's younger sister) and Lady Herbert, the three of them sewing and chatting about court intrigues, not knowing what the councillors talked about.

"You would love being a mother," Lady Strange told Jane, the former being mother to two children (Lords Ferdinando and William Stanley). "The process is painful, but it is worth it. Lady Herbert, do you not agree with me?"

Lady Herbert nodded enthusiastically.

Clearly she had a happy marriage with Sir Henry Herbert.

"Are you not worried of dying in childbirth?" said Jane worriedly.

"It is a risk us women have to take," said Lady Herbert, with a casual shrug. "Who knows? Maybe one of my daughters will marry one of Lady Strange's sons. It will depend on our husbands. Jane, you cannot possibly remain unmarried forever!"

"I was," said Jane curtly, not wanting to be reminded of her first failed marriage. "I am surprised you had forgotten. I had to suffer under the name of 'Dudley' for years, and what did I gain from that? A nice visit to the Tower. Every day, I feared a message of my execution. I watched my father, uncle, husband and father-in-law all get beheaded, never knowing if I would follow. If I can, I will remain an unmarried spinster forever. I do not care if men wish to marry me only because of my royal lineage or a large dowry. I will never marry another man."

"Fascinating words from a woman. It is Lady Jane Grey, is it not?"

The three women rose and curtsied a little when they saw the 1st Earl of Devon's distant cousin, Sir William Courtenay, swagger in the room.

He swept them a magnificent bow.

"You speak deep words, Lady Jane," he said gallantly. "It is every woman's dream to be swept off their feet and married to a handsome knight that rescued them from a tower."

"Unfortunately, you missed your opportunity," said Jane coolly. "I was freed by the late Queen, not a knight in shining armour on a dashing steed. If other women spent a short time in the Tower, I doubt a handsome knight will be what they think of. I reckon they would rather pray for their lives to the Queen or King's mercy, or at least a quick, painless death."

Sir William laughed to her chagrin.

"I am not jesting," Jane said crossly.

"I crave your sincere apologies," said Sir William at once. "I only meant it as a compliment to your witty words, my lady. Nothing that offend you."

Before Jane could speak, the council hall doors flung open and the Spanish ambassador stormed out, his face red with anger and his fingers crushing a piece of paper.

Elizabeth rushed after him, frazzled.

"Your Excellency, there is no need to be offended," she pleaded.

"_No need?!_" repeated Diego, staring at her incredulously. "By the name of God! You have insulted my master beyond the boundaries of offenses! He is the father of your queen, and you force him to agree to your terms?! Bah! And you offer him a mere noblewoman who is a Protestant heretic to be the future queen of Spain?! The girl that was prisoner to the late Queen Maria of England?! No! My master will never agree to that and nor will the Spanish people!"

Jane gasped.

He stopped ranting and looked at her, his eyes filled with hatred.

"You will pay for this, Regent!" threatened Diego, marching away. "I should have expected no good would come from the daughter of that whore, Anne Boleyn! You are the witch's daughter through and through! I will have you burnt at THE STAKE!"

"My," said Sir William dryly. "What a temper!"

Jane had the urge to slap him.

She was one who would never be violent to another individual-nobleman or peasant.

"My master will never marry _her!_" said Diego, pointing a finger at Jane, who wished she could disappear from the sudden stares of passing courtiers. "Never!"

"I am sorry, Jane," said Elizabeth, choosing to embrace Jane rather than to chase him through the maze

of corridors and out the main doors. "I did not expect the ambassador to act like this! I thought he would be more...cordial, or at least quiet. We know you would not be married now."

"What if he agreed?" whispered Jane. "Would I have to..." Her voice trailed off.

"That is another story," answered Elizabeth, pleased her cousin would not be forcibly married to the ruthless Spanish king. "I am so pleased he will not take you as his bride. I must return to the meeting. Now we have angered the ambassador, there is a lot of planning to do."

**August, 1561 **

Realising his efforts to peacefully attach England to his vast, thriving empire was on the fast road to failure, Philip II turned his attentions to warfare.

One way or another, England would be his.

For now, the little, dismal kingdom was nationalistically strong, but in a couple of years, it would be just ripe for plucking.

He instantly began negotiations with France, and shortly married Princess Elisabeth de Valois, the eldest daughter of Henri II and Catherine de Medici and sister to Charles IX of France. Originally, she had been affianced to Lisbet's half-brother, the Prince of Asturias, before Philip II had decided he wanted her for himself due to the portrait he saw from the French ambassador.

No one bothered to tell Lisbet of her new stepmother.

With Elisabeth de Valois, married to Philip II of Spain, her younger sister Claude de Valois, the wife of Stephen I of Poland and a possible betrothal between Charles IX and a daughter of Maximilian II, Holy Roman Emperor, France was a powerful kingdom.

A powerful kingdom indeed.

It was a kingdom England could not afford to offend.

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**Thank you for the reviews! All ideas welcome! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Characters:**

-Queen Elizabeth 'Lisbet' (1556-)

-Princess Elizabeth Tudor (1533-)

-Philip II of Spain (1527-)

-Elisabeth de Valois, Queen of Spain (1545-)

-Infanta Maria of Spain (1564-)

-Infanta Juana of Spain (1564-)

-Charles IX of France (1550-)

-Catherine de Medici, Queen Mother of France (1519-)

-Margaret Stuart, Countess of Lennox (1515-)

-Jane Grey, 1st Duchess of Suffolk (1536-)

-Catherine, Lady Herbert (1540-)

-Margaret, Baroness Strange (1540-)

-Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby (1509-)

-William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester (1483-)

-Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon (1527-)

-Ambrose Dudley, 3rd Earl of Warwick (1530-)

-Lord Robert Dudley (1532-)

-William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke (1501-)

-Sir Henry Herbert, Baron Herbert (1539-)

-Lady Elizabeth Herbert (1558-)

-Lady Mary Herbert (1560-)

-Lord William Herbert (1562-)

-Lady Anne Herbert (1564-)

-Lady Elizabeth Stokes (1555-)

-Henry Percy, 8th Earl of Northumberland (1532-)

-John de Vere, 16th Earl of Oxford (1516-)

-Henry FitzAlan, 19th Earl of Arundel (1512-)

-William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley (1520-)

-Henry Stanley, Baron Strange (1531-)

-Sir William Courtenay (1529-)

-Spanish Ambassador, Diego Guzman de Silva (1520-)

* * *

Chapter IV

**August, 1564**

An international problem occurred a few days after Elisabeth de Valois gave birth to twin daughters (named Maria and Juana).

Philip II had a son, but what if he died? By Spanish Succession law, the next-in-line after Carlos was Lisbet herself!

The thought of her being Queen of both England _and_ Spain was troublesome.

Even Philip II himself was uncertain about it.

"What will happen to her?" Jane asked Elizabeth, as they walked leisurely through the gardens, following Lisbet and her female companions. "If the King of Spain dies with his heir, Lisbet will be the Queen Regnant of Spain! She will have to move to Spain, will she not? Thank the Lord Lisbet has a Spanish tutor! Will we have to educate her in Spanish customs too?"

"I have no idea," said Elizabeth glumly. "Neither I nor Philip II thought of that. It was carelessness on my part, but too much confidence in Philip II's side. He seemed certain he would have a son. Either way, the King of Spain would have his wish."

"In what way?"

"Spain and England will be united if the Prince of Asturias dies young."

"Do you want the two countries unified?"

"Not particularly. It will not work well. I suppose that is the only matter the King of Spain and I will actually agree on. What if the King...you know..excludes Lisbet from the succession?"

"Would that not remind you of your own place during your late father's reign? Mary was declared a bastard and excluded, and you followed suit, only for the two of you to be reinstated in the line of succession in the last couple of years of your late father's life. Do you really want Lisbet to feel unwanted and in the same position as you were when you were declared illegitimate? I doubt the King of Spain will declare his daughter a bastard on dubious grounds. Perhaps, as she is a monarch of England, she can be legitimately removed from the Spanish succession line?"

"Philip II may not agree."

"You said that is common ground between the two of you."

"Let us say that Prince Carlos dies and the King fails to have a son. Infantas Maria and Elisabeth are eight years younger than our Lisbet. If Carlos dies and Lisbet is fifteen, the twins will be only seven. Who do you reckon will be a better ruler? A young queen or a child queen? Maybe it will be better if Lisbet is queen of Spain in name only?"

"That does not make sense."

"If Philip II dies when Lisbet is twenty four, her half-sisters will be sixteen. Lisbet can go to Spain, be crowned their queen, appoint Infanta Maria the regent of Spain and return to England. They can keep in contact from there. Perhaps when they have children of their own, Lisbet's second son is sent to Spain to be groomed into the perfect Spanish king, and he can marry Infanta Maria's daughter. This is all hypothetical of course, but possible."

Jane nodded slowly.

She understood the movements of politics once explained thoroughly.

"I heard you met our cousin, Sir William Courtenay," said Elizabeth lightly.

"An ill-mannered gentleman," said Jane disapprovingly. "He seemed to find amusement in every word I utter from my mouth."

"He is a landowner in the countryside! He may not be as...civilised as you and me, but he is a decent chap. A good soldier, I hear."

"Why would a landowner be a soldier?"

"Perhaps he wishes to have a military career rather than to be a noble farmer?"

"Sir William has been seeking me out in Lisbet's chambers almost twice every week. It is quite irritating actually. I can never finish sewing before I have to shoo him out."

"I believe he wishes to be acquainted with the ladies of the Court. His cousin, the 1st Earl of Devon is still unmarried, and as he is childless, Sir William is his heir presumptive. You seem a little interested in this fascinating knight, Jane. I suppose he is a newcomer after all. He is a widower. Lady Elizabeth Paulet, the youngest daughter of John Paulet, Earl of Wiltshire and a granddaughter of the 1st Marquess of Winchester was his first wife, but she tragically died of the Plague."

"Poor woman."

"Yes, they have two daughters. Mistresses Jane and Catharine Courtenay, the former thirteen years of age and the latter, eleven. Mistress Jane is ready for marriage."

"Oh God. Who is her husband-to-be?"

"It hasn't been decided yet. Lord Devon is quite ill, and the physicians say he cannot recover."

"Sir William will be the 2nd Earl of Devon soon."

"Indeed. I wonder what will happen once he dies. He has no son, and has not made a request for letters patent, regarding his elder daughter's claim to the earldom."

"May I make a request, cousin?"

"Of course!"

"Perhaps both Mistress Jane and Mistress Catharine are given positions in Lisbet's household? Lisbet is queen, but lacks an army of ladies. Both Courtenay girls seem pleasing enough, and I am certain Lisbet will be good friends with them."

Elizabeth nodded, wondering if there could possibly be romantic notions between her pious cousin and the carefree knight.

"I will go and pray," said Jane, nodding to her. "I will see you later."

"Aunt Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth turned and was almost knocked to the ground as Lisbet threw herself into her arms, with a infectiously charming laugh.

"I have an idea!" said Lisbet, her eyes glittering with intrigue. "It is almost Cousin Jane's birthday, and I know what to give her!"

"Oh?" said Elizabeth indulgently.

"I want Jane to be a duchess in her own right."

"Really?"

"Yes. Her mother-may she have peace with God-was the Duchess of Suffolk, and her father before her was the Duke of Suffolk."

"Jane's mother was the Duchess of Suffolk only because her husband was the Duke."

"Yes, but was he not created the 'Duke of Suffolk' only after the deaths of Jane's half-uncles, the 2nd and 3rd Dukes who died an hour after each other? We can always make Jane the Duchess of Suffolk in her own right and those of her descendants (male or female), and if she fails to have children, the title will pass to her younger sister, Lady Herbert and her descendants. I heard about Jane's unfortunate time in the Tower, and she has served me well since I was an infant. If it is alright with the Privy Council, I wish to crown Jane the Duchess of Suffolk myself."

"That sounds lovely, Lisbet. Would you like to tell the council that yourself?"

"Can I?"

"Of course you can. Let's go."

Elizabeth wondered if it was fine for Lisbet to ask the councillors of a possible dukedom for Jane. The child was only eight, and she never remembered a young queen requesting that before! She never even knew if a young _king _had done that!

"Your Royal Highness," said Oxford, joining them on the way to to the council conference. "Lord Devon will not be attending today. The physicians say he is delirious and on his deathbed."

"Poor man," said Elizabeth sympathetically. "He was kept in the Tower for fifteen years."

"Your Majesty," said Oxford, bowing to Lisbet. "What have you been up to today?"

"Conspiring with my companions," said Lisbet confidently.

"Really?!" said Oxford, with mock interest. "My! What can Your Majesty be possibly planning?"

"We are planning a wedding," said Lisbet proudly. "Mistress Susan, Mistress Anne and I all know that our friend Mary Cavendish, is head-over-heels in love with her _handsome_ stepbrother, Gilbert Talbot, Viscount Ingestre. It will be a beautiful wedding in the garden!"

Oxford gave Elizabeth a questioning look.

_Politicians have no sense of humour_, thought Elizabeth, feeling inquisitive stares from courtiers as she

and Lisbet entered the council hall. _Could Oxford not think that Lisbet is not serious about it?!_

"Your Majesty," said the councillors, all bowing to Lisbet.

"Gentlemen," said Lisbet sweetly. "I have a proposal to make. My cousin, Lady Jane Grey, has been loyal to me since I was a babe in the cradle. I want to reward her by giving her the dukedom of Suffolk. It was her father's title, and it is rightfully hers. I wish for it to be a surprise, as Lady Jane's birthday is coming up and she deserves a gift like this."

She charmed even the grimmest and grouchiest councillors into agreeing.

Her first unofficial council meeting was no doubt a tremendous success.

**October, 1564**

In her chambers on the morning of her twenty eighth birthday, Jane received a message from both Elizabeth and Lisbet to dress lavishly.

An obedient woman, she obliged unwillingly.

"Lady Jane," said her maid at the door. "The Queen requests for you to discard your hood. She says it is about time you leave your hair out."

"Queen's orders," sighed Jane, glancing sorrowfully at her French hood on her dressing table and then distastefully at her brown hair in the mirror. "I suppose I will have to dress up for the occasion. Can you get the necklace Elizabeth gave me last year for Christmas? I did not have the chance to wear it, and I think today is the day for it. At least my mother will be happy I am wearing colourful gowns. I hope she can see me in Heaven now."

As she slipped on her ring decorated with the Barry of six argent and azure (Arms of the Grey family), her nine year old sister, Elizabeth Stokes (affectionately called 'Bessie') walked in, her big brown eyes staring at her with admiration.

"Hello Bessie," said Jane, smiling at her. "What are you doing here?"

"You look lovely," said Bessie softly.

"Thank you sweetie. Should you not be with the Queen?"

"The Queen is busy and dismissed her ladies. Including me. Where is Catherine and Mary? Should they not be here with you?"

"Catherine has her own family now. She is married to Lord Herbert and they have four children (Ladies Elizabeth, Mary and Anne Herbert and Lord William Herbert) of their own. Mary prefers a convent or single life, and due to her ah, illness, she has not really attracted many suitors. Yet. I rather have you here alone than my other sisters."

"Really?"

"_Really_."

She embraced Bessie, and remembered the innocence of childhood.

That was something Catherine kind of lacked.

"Lady Jane," said a messenger politely. "The Queen is expecting you in the throne room and requests you go there immediately."

"The throne room?" said Jane, confused. "Why would the Queen want me in the throne room? Would she not be in her chambers at this hour?"

"The Princess Elizabeth wanted her to experience talking and listening to the complaints of the common people," Bessie explained, as the messenger looked at Jane with a baffled expression. "Maybe the Queen is doing such an excellent job, that the Princess Elizabeth is getting slightly bored and needs company. It can be tiresome, listening to the people talking."

Jane nodded and left, with Bessie hurrying after her.

The guards wordlessly opened the doors, and Jane froze as crowds of courtiers turned and stared at her, with Lisbet standing in front of the throne with Elizabeth, all of them with smiles on their faces. Elizabeth held the dark cushion embroidered with the royal Arms of England on it that held the coronet of a duke. By now, Jane knew what was going on.

"Lady Jane Grey," said Lisbet grandly. "Can you please come forward?"

Jane obeyed, a thrill of excitement shooting through her spine.

"Lady Jane Grey, you have shown exceeding loyalty towards me," continued Lisbet, as their Scottish

cousin Margaret Stuart (nee' Douglas), Countess of Lennox (daughter of Henry VIII's older sister, Margaret, Queen of Scots and her second husband, Archibald Douglas, 6th Earl of Angus and is now the wife of Matthew Stuart, 4th Earl of Lennox) placed the red and white ermine cloak around Jane. "For this, I will reward you with the dukedom the Suffolk."

She took the coronet from Elizabeth and placed it on Jane's head, before handing her the letters patent of her dukedom.

"Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk!" announced Lisbet, as the courtiers burst into applause.

Jane smiled and curtsied deeply.

"Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk!" chorused the courtiers.

"That means you are now _Lady_ Elizabeth Stokes," Lisbet whispered to Bessie, as they led the courtiers out to the great hall to celebrate. "In the letters patent, it says that I have acknowledged the late Frances Grey as Duchess of Suffolk in her own right during her marriage with your father. That means you are an heir to the dukedom."

Music was struck and courtiers began dancing and chatting.

Sir William strutted to Jane and bowed.

"Your Grace," he said, daring to stare her mischievously in the eye. "Congratulations on your investiture if you do not mind me saying. I always believed you are a woman who will achieve great things. Being viewed importantly by the Queen is quite special!"

"I am not interested in climbing the ladder of hierarchy," said Jane shortly. "My duty is to serve the Queen, and that I will do until my dying day. Being unmarried helps me focus on my duties. I had sworn an oath to help the Queen, and I will stay by it for the better or for the worse."

"Till death do us part."

"Am I court jester to you, Sir William?"

"Am I to you?"

"I bid you good day."

She moved, but he barred her path.

"Are you determined to be a cold woman like Queen Mary?" he almost pleaded. "We have talked and walked for years since my first formal arrival to Court, and you have treated me with contempt and iciness in social functions like this! Are you afraid to be my friend, or am I too below your station? If you want me to leave, just say the word."

"I, I don't know," said Jane, flustered for words. "I really don't know. Meet me in the gardens by the large oak tree before dinner. We will talk then. I am really sorry!"

She nodded to him and fled to her comfort circle of Elizabeth and Lady Lennox.

With a sigh, Sir William gave a final dramatic bow and departed.

"Were you talking to Sir William?" said Elizabeth, with a cheeky smile. "Does he not like our refreshments? He left in quite a hurry!"

"He...has business to attend to," lied Jane, her cheeks warm.

"Yes, I am certain he does. Perhaps purchasing...a ring?"

"Oh hush! We had a little argument, that is all."

"I'm sure it was a small, friendly banter between old friends. Did you enjoy your surprise investiture, Jane? It was Lisbet's idea to make you a duchess in your own right. I am a princess of the royal blood and a marquess in my own right, while you are a noblewoman of the royal blood and a duchess in your own right. I say we're equal, don't you?"

Jane laughed and caught sight of Lady Herbert's tiny pout.

Everyone was aware that the beautifully blonde haired and blue eyed Lady Catherine Grey was the most attractive of Frances Brandon's daughters, and they all knew she was her favourite, even if her wits did not even match half of Jane's intelligence.

"My sister is jealous," Jane remarked.

"I hope marriage did not corrupt her," said Elizabeth, nodding courteously at Lady Herbert, who was obliged to curtsey a little back.

"Yes, quite right. With children of her own, Lady Herbert may wish to advance her family's social standing. If I die childless, the dukedom would go to her, and the new Dukes of Suffolk would be Herberts, and I suppose the earldom of Lincoln would be unnecessary. I love my sister, but if she only wants to arrange fine matches for her children, I suppose our relationship is over."

"You will remain sisters. I am sure of it."

"Probably. What about my sister Mary? She refuses to join celebrations."

"We cannot force her. If she desires to live permanently in the countryside, or wishes to enter a convent or nunnery, I will not stop her."

Jane nodded and resumed mingling with other courtiers, the thought of Sir William constantly embedded in her thoughts.

It was not long before the celebrations finished, and she hurried to the gardens.

Like a mysterious foreigner standing languidly in the shadows, Sir William leant against the tree, his feathered cap covering his face.

The sky was painted a mixture of pink, orange, yellow and red, the sun slowly descending from its throne in the centre of the canvas of colours. A flock of birds flew passed, adding beauty to the dazzling horizon. The wind sang softly as Jane approached the tree.

"Your Grace," he greeted her. "You came."

"Of course," said Jane uncomfortably. "I am not one to break promises."

"Tell me truthfully; do you feel...anything towards me?"

"Why?"

"I will be returning to my lands in two days' time. My cousin requests me to marry to ensure my lineage will not fail. Two children are not enough. He wants me to marry Northumberland's unmarried sister, Lady Joan Percy, but I feel unable to do so. My first wife and I had a connection. We loved each other. Her father did not approve of me, but she did not mind marrying a mere knight. I never felt that way for a long time, until I met you. I do not care for looks, wealth or royal lineage. You are intelligent and well-read, and that is what I find attractive. Knowledge is precious to me. More valuable than a million gold pieces, or even Helen of Troy! If you despise me still, I will leave Court and never come back. I will never find you again, and I promise I will break all contact with you."

"No! Do not do that!"

"Why? Give me a good reason to stay, breaking my heart in the process."

"I...I just cannot explain it! When I married Guildford Dudley, I thought marriage is all pain, agony and distress. I thought true love was never real. I am mistaken. You have fascinated me since we first met, your laidback language, your posture, attitude, everything! I just...did not know how to react. I was never loved for myself, not for my royal blood or status."

Sir William laughed, and grasped her hands, tears in her eyes.

"Your Grace," he said, gazing intently into her eyes, which her sisters described as 'dull'. "My Jane. My dearest Jane. I have seen you take care of the royal wards and your love for children. My two daughters are in need for a motherly figure. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

"We will need the Queen's permission," said Jane, her head spinning with millions of thoughts like a swarm of locusts buzzing around a field of crops. "We need to inform people. Contracts must be made, agreements, the Privy Council-"

"I do not _care_," said Sir William passionately. "All I want is _you_."

Jane hesitated.

"Marry me?" said Sir William hopefully, like a lovesick schoolboy. "Please?"

"Yes," said Jane, giving in to her emotional cries. "Yes! I will be perfectly content being Lady Courtenay, even if the councillors are prepared to take away my dukedom!"

Their lips collided in an ardent frenzy as they kissed.

Their emotions flowed through their bodies like the joyous tears running down Jane's cheeks. Her false hatred towards him melted like snow in the early days of Spring and Sir William's love for her intensified like rekindled flames in the fireplace.

Nothing would ever tear them apart.

"That was..." said Jane breathlessly. "That was..."

"Perfect?" supplied Sir William, breaking away from her. "I have waited a long time for that. Every day, I dreamed of you. Even when you push me away from the Queen's chambers at my every visit, or say cold, heart breaking words to me, I still think of you. I always will. Every time I pray, I pray for your health and your well being. I pray that we may have a chance together just to confess our love to each other before they whisk you away in a loveless marriage to satisfy their ends."

Jane smiled and embraced him again.

From the window, Lord Robert's elder brother, Ambrose Dudley, 3rd Earl of Warwick looked bitterly down at them, digging his nails into his own palms.

If it was not for that Jane Grey, his father and one of his brothers would not have been executed.

If it was not for her, the Dudleys would have a thriving career in Court.

If it was not for her, he would not be hiding in total disgrace.

She did not deserve happiness!

He could not believe she was his sister-in-law. A true sister-in-law would beg daily for her husband's family to return to Court, not dally with a common knight!

Besides, his own brother promised him Jane Grey as his third wife!

_I will have a word with Robert_, Warwick thought as he turned away from the happy scene in the gardens. _The Princess Regent is sweet on him, and she will listen. Once I stand side by side with that Protestant wench in the chapel and she belongs to me, she will pay for my father's death. If I cannot marry her, I rather see her suffer and die unloved._

He walked to his wooden medical chest and picked up a bottle with a sneer.

Hemlock.

_Perfect_.

"Thank you dear father," he murmured, a cold calculating grin slowly spreading on his face. "You always knew this would come in handy. Lady Jane Grey is an expensive jewel. A very costly gift indeed. A prize that the knight will pay with his life for."

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the latest chapter! **


	5. Chapter 5

**July, 1565**

As Lisbet grew older during the swift, passing years, she began noticing that court life was not as perfect or heavenly as she was led to believe.

Jane's wedding with Sir William was like a fairytale wedding and she was like a princess, with Sir William as her gallant knight.

There was another new arrival at court, and she was afraid of him.

His frosty blue eyes froze her to the spot and his voice terrified her.

"Aunt Elizabeth," she whispered during one banquet. "Who is that man? I never saw him in court before! Is he a Spanish exile?"

"No," said Elizabeth softly, shuddering at the man she looked at. "He is...a Protestant. His name is Lord Ambrose Dudley, 3rd Earl of Warwick. He was Jane's brother-in-law many years ago and he was banished from Court for a little while. He is Lord Robert's older brother. He spent a few years in the Tower and is probably adjusting himself back in court life."

At that moment, Warwick looked up from his plate and stared at her unblinkingly. She looked away, wondering how on earth he could be related to the charming Lord Robert! Right on cue, Lord Robert appeared beside her.

"Your Royal Highness," he said quietly. "May I introduce my brother?"

Elizabeth nodded wordlessly.

"What is it?" said Lisbet curiously.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness," said Robert, as Warwick bowed to them. "May I present my older brother, the 3rd Earl of Warwick?"

"Thank you brother," said Warwick, his tone as oily and cruel as his icy eyes. "Your Majesty, I am honoured to serve you, and I am grateful for your leniency, as to you, Your Royal Highness. I did not imagine I would be allowed to return to court. Unfortunately, I return a widower. My dear wife, Elizabeth, 4th Baroness Tailboys of Kyme has died a couple of years ago. As I am childless, I am still in need of a fertile wife. Any recommendations, I will be glad to hear."

"Of course," said Elizabeth politely, not knowing what else to say. "I will keep my eye out for eligible ladies. Welcome back to court. May I introduce Her Majesty, the Queen?"

Lisbet smiled fearfully as Warwick stared at her before bowing deeply.

"A pleasure," he said shortly, before returning to his table.

"He has suffered quite a bit," apologised Lord Robert. "I am sorry about his attitude. He was a cheerful, amiable man before he was sent to the Tower. I am going to see Jane. Want to come? She should be well rested after having that baby."

A few days ago, Jane had endured labour for the first time in two marriages and gave birth to a bonny daughter. Elizabeth remarked that all Tudor-blooded nobles and royals seem to have a knack of having girls more easily than sons.

Unsurprisingly, the little girl was christened 'Elizabeth'.

"So many Elizabeths at court!" laughed Elizabeth. "How can we possibly distinguish them?! There is your sister, Bessie Stokes, my niece, Lisbet, me, your niece, Elizabeth Herbert and now this darling! What about 'Lizzie'? That is new!"

"Yes," Jane agreed. "Lizzie Courtenay."

"Are you happy at having a daughter?" Lisbet asked Sir William (now the 2nd Earl of Devon).

"Yes," said Devon, smiling widely at her and Jane. "Nothing could make me happier. If I die with three daughters, I am a happy man. My eldest daughter will be the future Earl of Devon, my youngest daughter, the Duchess of Suffolk. Nothing can make me happier."

"Your second daughter will have a title of her own," promised Lisbet, who did not wish for her cousins to have rivalries over titles and possessions. "Perhaps you will have the marquessate of Exeter for your eldest daughter and the earldom of Devon for your second daughter. When will you and Jane have another baby? Lady Herbert has a baby once every two years! Will you do that too?"

"Um..." said Devon, glancing at Jane uncomfortably. "I do not think so. We may have another one in a couple of years. We do not want many children. We both are not as young as other courtiers, and I value her life more than the amount of children we have. I am perfectly happy with my Jane, Catharine and Elizabeth. Even if I have another daughter, I will be content."

Jane nodded in agreement.

She loathed the idea of being in pain, but after holding the sweet baby in her arms for a minute, all her hatred of pregnancy disappeared.

**August, 1565**

"Lord Devon," said Elizabeth, strolling with him in the gardens. "I have summoned you to discuss your eldest daughter, the Lady Jane Courtenay. She is now fourteen years old, and a husband must be found for her. From what I heard, she was betrothed to your ward, Sir Edward Wotton at a young age. Will you pursue this match?"

"I was only a common knight back then, Your Highness," Devon answered.

"I received an offer from the 16th Earl of Oxford this morning. He proposes a match between his eldest son, Edward, Viscount Bulbeck and your Jane. It is an honourable union, and Lord Oxford is keen in allying his family with yours."

"Funny I never received his offer a few years back when I was just plain 'Sir William Courtenay'. Did this proposal come after I married the Lady Jane Grey or after I became the Earl of Devon?"

"Lord Oxford requested your eldest daughter, not Lizzie."

"I am sorry?"

"I am working under the assumption that you assume Lord Oxford wishes to be friends with you due to your connection with royalty. If that is true, he would have asked for the hand of Lizzie Courtenay instead of Jane Courtenay. Lord Oxford has cousins of the male line and is not desperate for a male grandson. He wants you as a friend, not your wife as an ally."

"I will reply to Lord Oxford at once."

"Excellent. I imagine your daughter will be delighted to be the future Countess of Oxford. The de Veres are a prestigious family of ancient bloodline and a noble house in the heart of aristocracy. Having them as allies is too great an honour to turn down. It is better to have them as your friends than as your enemies. It is just my opinion though."

"I value your opinions greatly, Your Highness. I will accept his proposal."

Elizabeth nodded approvingly.

She liked Devon.

Even though he was a member of one of the most ancient families of England and was distantly related to the noble French Courtenays through a common ancestor of Athon I, Seigneur de Courtenay, he considered himself part of the gentry and experienced hardships similarly to the poorest of knights and could relate to the common folk.

Elizabeth found that extremely useful and viewed Devon as a valuable asset in the council.

She hoped Lisbet will too once the regency is over.

"Your Highness," said Devon cautiously. "If you do not mind me asking, when will you find yourself a suitable husband, as the King of Spain's proposal was rejected."

"I do not wish to marry," said Elizabeth darkly. "Only if it is absolutely necessary, will I find a spouse to have heirs. Apart from that, I will never be a wife and mother."

Devon nodded respectfully.

He found it odd that she refused to marry, but she had her reasons.

Reasons he had no right to hear.

"I heard that the Duke of Montpensier is arriving today," said Elizabeth, turning her attentions to state matters. "He will be accompanied by the French ambassador, Michel de Castelnau, Sieur de la Mauvissiere to discuss the treaty between France and England. No doubt, the Duke is a devout Catholic and sent by the Queen Mother of France to investigate England's religious stand and boast about her fine sons and France's greatness and superiority to England."

"When will you meet him?" inquired Devon.

"In the afternoon. I will allow him to settle in the guest chambers and enjoy refreshments before having a good talk with him. I wish for you and your wife to be there, as I value both your opinions and Jane is an heiress presumptive residing in England. It will not be long before Lisbet will be ruling England herself and having children of her own. Every time I think of meeting with ambassadors to discuss the betrothal, I feel like I am losing a part of Lisbet."

"She will always remember you."

"I know. I wonder if Mary would have approved of my policies or methods of raising Lisbet. She would be furious I stopped the burnings."

"The late Queen Mary would disapprove a great deal of matters that are in favour of Protestantism. She may not even appreciate your efforts of teaching her daughter to forgive those that are of the wrong religion, or have wronged her in some way."

"My sister had much to learn."

"We all have lessons to learn and understand."

"I must prepare for the meeting with Montpensier. "

"Of course. Your Royal Highness."

He bowed and watched Elizabeth hurry inside Dover Castle. He sat on a bench and played with the apple he had taken with him. At times, he enjoyed the respect and status of an earl and the position as husband of a potential heiress, but moments like now, he wished he was a simple knight and not one of the most trusted advisors to the Princess Regent. Not all nobles like the Earl of Oxford wished to be allies with him, and some treated him with contempt-especially Baron Burghley.

A few hours later, dressed in the finest clothes that made him itch, Devon found himself in the throne room beside his wife and Elizabeth.

In front of them were Castelnau and Monsieur d'Montpensier.

"Your Highness," greeted Elizabeth, with a wide smile. "Your Excellency, I am pleased the both of you can come to England at such a short time. Will you please sit?"

The two Frenchmen sat on the chairs provided and looked at Devon curiously.

"This is my cousin, Her Grace, the 1st Duchess of Suffolk," introduced Elizabeth, gesturing to Devon and Jane beside her. "And that is her husband and my distant relative, the Right Honourable, the 2nd Earl of Devon. Your Grace, Lord Devon, these are His Highness, the Duke of Montpensier and His Excellency, Michel de Castelnau."

They nodded at each other politely.

"Her Majesty, the Queen Mother instructs us to discuss the marital treaty with you, Princess Regent," said Francois, Duke of Montpensier cautiously. "As the King of France is still betrothed to Her Imperial Highness, the Archduchess Elisabeth of Austria, the Queen Mother suggests a match between the Queen of England and her second living son, the Duke of Angouleme, or her youngest living son, the Duke of Anjou. Here are their portraits."

He handed Elizabeth two small rolled up canvasses.

"Which prince is more desirable?" asked Elizabeth. "And what of the other princes?"

"Other princes?" said Montpensier, raising an eyebrow.

"The other French candidates."

"The Queen Mother dismisses them as suitable suitors for the young Queen of England. She insists for you and your council to choose either the Duke of Angouleme or the Duke of Anjou as the husband for the Queen of England. If you decide against both the available _fils de France_ and choose a _prince du sang_, the potential treaty will be broken. As for the dowry, the Queen Mother says the kingdom of England will suffice for a peace treaty."

"I will not sell England for peace. The Queen is ruler of England, not the man she marries. If she marries one of the dukes, he will be given the title 'His Royal Highness, the Duke Consort', and that is as far as it will go. He will not be titled 'King Consort' unless he is an actual king."

"I suppose the Queen Mother will agree to that."

"Excellent. Is there anything else, Your Highness?"

"I suppose the chosen duke will have to reside in England?"

"Well of course! He will be given his own court and palaces for his disposal. However, I have to say that as long as the duke remains in England, he will be the Queen's subject, even if he is a foreigner and the husband of Her Majesty. He will have a sizable annuity befitting his rank, and if the Queen Mother agrees to finalise the treaty, I ask for the chosen duke to come to England immediately to finish his education with the Queen and to know her better."

"It will depend on the duke."

"The King of France is young, and I am sure he will have children of his own someday. What is the harm of introducing the Queen to both young dukes?"

"Are you suggesting for the Queen Mother to relinquish both her younger sons in your care?! That will not do, Princess Regent. That will not do at all!"

"What if the Queen visits France?"

"And why would you allow that, Your Royal Highness?"

"It will be good for the Queen to see her future in-laws and choose her own spouse. I value the happiness of the Queen, and will not see her in an unhappy marriage for diplomatic reasons. It will give the Queen experience outside in England."

"Are you aware that the dukes are not cattle?"

"Are you aware that the Queen is not a filly?"

Montpensier stared at her, irritated and impressed.

"I will inform the Queen Mother," spoke Castelnau, standing up. "If you excuse me, Your Highnesses, Your Grace, Monsieur Devon."

Everyone stood up and nodded to him.

He bowed and walked out.

"Will you be staying tonight?" inquired Elizabeth. "I have chambers prepared if you intend on staying before you return to France."

"His Excellency is writing to the Queen Mother," said Montpensier thoughtfully. "He will return to France tomorrow, and I am under orders to wait for a reply. I suppose I accept your offer of hospitality for the time being, Your Highness. May I ask if there are chambers available for another? My wife is due to arrive in a matter of hours and it is unhonourable of me to leave her stranded at the ports and living on a barge during her stay in England."

"Of course. Apartments will be arranged for her immediately."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"All I wish for is a peaceful relationship between France and England, and I am sure providing suitable accomodations for you and your entourage is a step in that direction."

"I believe it is, Your Highness."

"Excellent."

Montpensier bowed to her and left.

"Monsieur le Duc! Monsieur le Duc!" called his servant, running towards him. "Your wife, the Duchesse has arrived! Shall I escort her into the castle?"

"No need," said Montpensier, turning to him. "I will go and escort my wife. I want you to find the Princess Regent and inform her of my wife's arrival. I imagine she will be extremely tired and in great need for rest. Off you go."

He strolled through the corridors and soon found himself helplessly lost.

"Excuse me!" he said, hurrying towards a lady whom he presumed was a maid or lady-in-waiting to the Princess Regent. "I am the Duke of Montpensier. I have found myself lost in your magnificent castle. Can you please show me the way out, my lady?"

"Of course, Your Highness," said the lady, with a deep curtsey. "If you follow me." She led him through empty, seemingly abandoned corridors to an exit.

"Why is no one here?" inquired Montpensier.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"There are no lords or ladies here."

"Not many of them prefer to walk this way. I find it longer to walk to the doors, but more enjoyable to be by myself rather than entangle myself with the twittering ladies of the court. If you listen quietly, you can hear the whispers of past lords and ladies that lived here."

"Are all English ladies like you, or are you one of the rare acceptions?"

"I suppose I am one of the few that prefer to wander the corridors alone than to be in a cluster like a

flock of birds. What about you? What is a French prince doing alone in England? Where are your guards?"

"I am here on negotiations with the Princess Regent."

"Here you are, Your Highness. All you have to do is walk through the gardens and there will be stables nearby for you to borrow a horse."

"Thank you, my lady. May I have your name?"

The woman stared at him unblinkingly.

"I am Lady Mary Grey," she answered, turning away. "I have recently arrived in court from a long stay away. I do not know everything that is going on here, and if you need any more assistance, Your Highness, I pray you find another courtier."

_My word!_ Montpensier thought, as he followed her instructions. _What a woman! I wonder if all English ladies are like her! I may stay in England a little longer. I wonder if my wife will learn wit from these flowers! She is as dull as a piece of wood!_

**December, 1565**

It was Lisbet's first Christmas away from England and she was quite excited, yet nervous. She had perfected her French and it was expected of her to speak that language once she is presented to the royal family of France.

Upon arrival, the English royal party were given chambers befitting their ranks in Chateau de Fontainebleau, a palace favoured by the Valois princes and princesses.

"Why are we here?" Lisbet asked Elizabeth.

"We are invited by the Queen Mother of France," Elizabeth answered.

"Why can't they come to England?"

"Don't you want to visit another court?"

"I do! It is a pity Jane cannot come with us. Is she pregnant again?"

"No darling. A ruler is always needed to maintain peace throughout England. We are going to France, and as our cousin, it is Lady Jane's duty to be regent for you. As her husband, the Earl of Devon is required to stay behind as well. The King of France has two sisters the same age as you. I am certain you will get along quite well together. The French people may call you 'Elisabeth', as that is the French translation of our names. Understand?"

"Yes Aunt Elizabeth. Will I have to speak French throughout the time there?"

"I suppose it will be wise for you to speak French until a French royal speaks English. If you do not understand a word or cannot convey what you wish to say, just nod or ask me. I will be by your side the entire time there."

"Thank you Aunt Elizabeth."

It was not long before they were summoned to the throne room.

Waiting for them was a fifteen year old boy with blank, wondering brown eyes and sickly pale skin sitting on the throne, wearing richly coloured and decorated clothes and a traditional golden French crown worn by all French monarchs. Standing proudly beside him with a strong hand gripping his shoulder firmly was an older woman with the large lips and prominent eyes of an Italian, her figure still fine after consecutive years of childbearing. Next to her was a fourteen year old boy with similar alluring Italian eyes as the haughty lady. Like the boy on the throne, he wore an equally fine attire, but contrastingly seemed to look healthier and taller. Beside him was a slightly hunched smaller boy of around ten years of age with pitted scars from Smallpox all over his face.

Standing in front of the superior woman was a beautiful young girl of twelve, her pink lips forming a sweet smile. Next to her were two identical nine year old girls, dressed alike, the only difference between them was one had higher cheek bones than the other.

"Your Majesty," spoke the elder woman, her proud voice echoing throughout the throne room. "Your Royal Highness. It is a pleasure to meet you in person in good France."

Elizabeth was surprised she had chosen to speak in English rather than France.

"We too, are delighted to meet you," spoke Lisbet clearly (she had memorised her lines almost every day for this moment). "Good King Charles, we have heard many kind deeds you have committed in the name of France. We are honoured to spend the Christmas festivities with you and your family in fine, strong France and we insist you join us for New Year celebrations in England for the steps to peace between our great nations of England and France."

The woman who had spoke earlier clapped slowly, her claps bouncing off the cold, sullen walls of the chateau, an equally chilling smile on her face.

"_Bravo!_" she said, with an almost cynical laugh. "_Bravo_, little queen! You have learnt your lessons well, I trust! Sweet words from a charming queen! Monsieur le Montpensier! Why have you not told our guests who we are?!"

Montpensier bowed apologetically.

He had returned to France with them as their guide.

"His Majesty, King Charles IX de France," he said to Lisbet and Elizabeth, nodding to the ill boy on the throne. "Her Majesty, the Queen Mother, His Royal Highness, Prince Henri, Duc de Angouleme, His Royal Highness, Prince Hercule-Francois, Duc de Anjou and Their Royal Highnesses, Princesses Marguerite, Jeanne and Victoire de France."

Each French prince or princess bowed or curtsied politely when his or her name was mentioned by the Duke of Montpensier.

From a sharp poke by the Queen Mother, the handsome and robust Duke of Angouleme stepped forward and bowed formally to Lisbet.

"Your Majesty," he said respectfully, kissing her hand (which earnt a blush from Lisbet). "It is an honour to meet you. I am the Duke of Angouleme, but you can call me 'Henri'."

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**Suggestions all welcome! Reviews greatly appreciated. List of characters should be on my profile page if you need a guide. **


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